The Nesting Doll
by SerinaGyrfalc
Summary: How did North have that small nesting doll to give Jack to represent his center?


**The Nesting Doll**

**A "Rise of the Guardians" Fanfiction**

North looked at his two comrades. Tooth had ridden in the sleigh with them, which spoke much of her deteriorating condition. She flew so fast it was normal that she could arrive almost at the same time a snow globe could take him to an identical destination. Looking in her arms, he stared at the one that was both rival and friend. Bunny shivered in Tooth's arms, his form so tiny, so vulnerable compared to the tall rabbit North was accustomed to bantering with.

It had happened only moments before. They had all felt the cold gust as Jack had left them, and they hadn't said a word about it. Bunny had then clutched at his heart, his eyes going glassy with unshed tears as the belief of yet another child – this one an eternal one forever preserved in frost and snow – left him. Jack had been the last support to that kind of power, and as his belief in Bunny's faith in him left so did Bunny's great form.

The loss of belief was shocking and hurt all of them, but Bunny was still shivering, feeling the effects of nearly no one believing in him. Out of the three of them the Pooka was the worst off. Tooth's belief lingered because children still assumed they stayed up too late and the Tooth Fairy didn't visit - as their parents always warned - and North's holiday was months.

They had landed, returning to Santoff Claussen a short while ago. As they crossed the globe room North spared a glance at the lights. They were so few. It made him think of when a Christmas Tree was first getting decorated. It wasn't uncommon to test the lights to see if any had burnt out before adding the ornaments. That's what the globe looked like now - a Christmas Tree that had been strung with an old, worn out string of glitters.

His mouth pressing into a firm line, North found his fingers working around a small, polished wooden figurine in his pocket. His thoughts diving deep, he made several quick strides before Tooth's voice stopped him.

"North? Where are you going?"

He paused, heaving a sigh that he tried to keep quiet as it whistled out of his nose. "Work room. I must think. New plans. New tactic."

Tooth said no more as the once jolly now grim man continued on his way. He trusted her to look after Bunny. She was very motherly and kind, a trait that had first made Jack help them with the teeth, when the belief first began to wane. It wasn't North or Bunny that inspired Jack to help their cause – it was Tooth. She always knew what to say, except… except when….

Why couldn't he and Bunny be that strong? True, Tooth hadn't said anything as Jack had left, but the tremble to her lips, the whispered words that North couldn't make out where she hovered beside him… it was more than what he and Bunny had offered in belated farewell.

The door slammed behind him, the lock spinning into place. The elves had seen his face, his body language saying what he presently could not, and quickly vacated his room and ran out of the way. For once no pointy heads were under his feet. He should have been pleased.

He sat at his work table, throwing his coat and hat to the floor, and rested his head in his hands, the wood of the smallest nesting doll pressing against his brow. He moved his hands away, looking at the small creation he'd made to symbolize himself.

Eyes full of wonder. That's what he had told Jack, and Jack had seemed so lost when he was asked what his own center was. What would it be like to go 300 years without knowing your center? North had still been a mortal man when he had made his choice to choose children over treasures, to leave the Cossak lifestyle. That was why the Man in the Moon selected him, made him the offer to become a Guardian, and he had taken it, wanting to do even more for the children not only of Santoff Claussen, but the world.

What had the Man in the Moon said to Jack? Jack's age was a mystery. No one knew what time period he came from, though he appeared in folklore in the early 18th century and was later discovered in person by Bunnymund. Was he an orphan? Did the Man in the Moon take Jack's memories so he could have a happier unburdened immortal life? Now… he might never know, and he only had himself to blame. He could claim the others were at fault, weren't strong enough, but he did his part in driving away the young spirit the Man in the Moon had told them was their newest Guardian.

North looked at the nesting doll again. Eyes full of wonder, but they hadn't seen the wonder in Jack Frost. Suddenly North didn't want to look at the doll anymore, but he didn't want to destroy it. No. He longed to see something, someone, that used to be viewed as a bother, a trickster, a pest of the immortal world.

One who was gone.

He rose to his feet, rushing to the side shelf and grabbing a palette, brushes, and paint. He unrolled the brush mat, selected small detailed bristles for tiny work. The paint he simply sat on the pallet, going straight for the bottles against his original intenton. He coated the small wooden baby with big eyes full of wonder with winter's blue, covering every inch, holding the small artifact carefully with expert care.

Jack wore his hood when he was sad, so the face was painted within the blue. Though he only wore the hoodie and not a coat Jack was childlike, and children wore heavy coats often lined with fur and fleece, so white was placed around the coat trim, and dark blue mittens were put on his hands.

Then came the detailed part. The lines were added, carefully etched with quick practiced hands. Eyes took shape, wide and happy, and a smile full of playful glee made the tiny face of the spirit of frost come to life.

North leaned back, setting the new nesting doll on the table, shocked.

Why had his eyes been so blind? It was so obvious now.

What did children do, what did they value and treasure until they became adults, when such a frivolous thing no longer had the time to be enjoyed?

Fun.

That was his center! That was why the Man in the Moon chose him! After 300 years Jack Frost still smiled, still played tricks, and still had fun, despite being lonely and unbelieved in and ignored.

No one normal could be that strong.

No one, that is, except for a Guardian.

There was a sound outside his workshop, and the whole of Santoff Claussen began to shake. North rose to his feet, the new nesting doll finding its way into his pocket as he rushed out of his work room and to the globe room.

Pitch had arrived.

And there was one light left.


End file.
